A Maze of Treachery
by RedSword12
Summary: Count Dooku survives the battle of Coruscant, incapacitated, and presumed dead by Sidious. In his stead Grievous must assume command of the Confederacy of Independent Systems all the while preparing to face the betrayal of Darth Sidious.
1. The Battle of Coruscant

"A warrior's home is the battlefield." —anonymous Mandalorian warrior

Coruscant burned below the _Invisible Hand_ , pitted with craters like a moon. Ships blasted one another with reckless abandon, with no consideration for battle lines. _Such is the chaos of war_ , mused General Grievous, awaiting a report.

"We have confirmed the prisoner's escape with two jedi. They left the ship on board an escape pod. We have tracked their movement back to the enemy fleet," said a communications droid.

"Standby to receive new orders."

 _How things had gone wrong._ The General remembered dragging the Chancellor down the ramp, shoving him into his quarters, and binding him to a comfortable chair as befitting the man's position.

The fool had mocked him, belittled him, even as his wrists were bound. Then Grievous had shown him footage of two Jedi corpses, floating in space without their lightsabers. How the cyborg had laughed, explaining that the two had attempted a rescue mission. He remembered so vividly the look of shock that graced the chancellor's face when he said that.

Then, with the Chancellor behind him, he had announced to the galaxy that he had captured Palpatine, and heralded the beginning of a new age of prosperity to the countless beings who had been enslaved by it. He had left the room to handle the battle, leaving Count Dooku to guard the prisoner. Now he bitterly regretted not killing the Chancellor when he had the chance. If he had known what was going to happen, he would have killed him, orders from Sidious or not. He could not have dreamed it possible! Now, the chair was empty, and the prisoner gone. To make matters worse, Count Dooku lay on the floor, barely alive, with both of his hands severed at the wrists, and a stab wound in his chest. All injuries inflicted by a lightsaber. How had Grievous's teacher been bested by a mere Jedi? He would have to examine the holofootage if they escaped from this alive. He had to know. But first, he had to keep Dooku alive.

"Bring the patient to the medical station immediately."

"Yes, General," replied the comms droid in a monotone.

Now to look at his fleet. At the moment, the remaining twenty ships from the rearguard division were buckling under intense pressure from the Republic's reinforcements that outnumbered them two to one. He expected them to delay the fresh fleet back for a good ten more minutes.

The rest of the fleet were had scattered since the battle started and falling victim to concentrated enemy fire. He silently swore to punish those who had commanded his fleet in his absense, and began sending out orders.

"All ships are to abandon their engagements and withdraw in good order to Kashyyyk. _Kirth_ Squadron, move to provide support for my flagship."

Nearly half of the ships holding the way clear were rapidly losing shields and succumbing to enemy fire. All across the battle, Confederate vessels abandoned their engagements, and tried to withdraw. They were taking heavy losses for turning their back, however, with ships losing power and falling to the city below.

"This is not a good idea, Sir," chattered a droid with what could have passed as fear. Grievous turned his head slowly to look at the coward, looking at it with such venom that even a battle droid could recognize with its photoreceptors. The thing understood its place, obliged to get back to work.

The Invisible Hand accelerated to full speed, accompanied by the ragged remnants of the escorting Kirth Squadron. They were less than seven kilometers from escaping Coruscant's gravity well, and making good progress through the enemy fleet.

—

"Shields functioning at worse than ten percent," reported a technician droid. They were within a kilometer of escaping the planet's gravity well, having pushed through almost the entire Republic Fleet with sheer momentum. The _Invisible Hand_ and _Kirth_ Squadron were now traveling at full speed, going in a straight line towards the remains of the rearguard division. Many ships had been left behind due to engine damage, and were ordered by the General to instead spread out and escape the system if possible.

"General, the enemy reserve fleet is forming up to block our ship from escaping the system," stated a neimodian officer. He was right. The last of the rearguard division had been eliminated, and the Re public reinforcements were headed right for his flagship. There was no way the _Invisible Hand_ would escape the system.

"Prepare a shuttle to evacuate Dooku, and copy the last hour of holocam footage from my quarters onto the shuttle's database," rasped Grievous into his comlink.

"What vessel should I set the destination to?" asked the droid on the other end. Grievous briefly glanced at the tactical hologram, and replied, "The _Cordon_." He looked back up, trying his best to maintain a façade of confidence.

"Probability of getting past the blockade?"

"One to ten," calculated a tactical droid, looking at him from its tactical computer, "Do you wish us to continue moving in our current trajectory?"

"You are correct," said Grievous, moving to the exit and gesturing his Magnaguards to follow him, "Order an evacuation of all organic personnel, and bring in droids to replace them."

—

The kilometer-long middle corridor was seldom filled with anything other than droids. Grievous paced down the hall, followed by his Magnaguards on either side. The hangars were another three doors down. He broke into a run as the floor underneath him shuddered, hoping that the walls wouldn't explode on him.

Two magnaguards flanked the ramp leading into the shuttle. electrostaffs at the ready.

"We are leaving." They followed him up as the ramp underneath folded in, and the shuttle launched out of the hangar bay.

"Grievous entered the brightly illuminated passenger chamber. The scene before him reminded him of when he had taken the surgery that made him what he was now. Dooku lay on a stretcher, obscured by the seven medics working on him. The lead doctor, a human, turned to face Grievous, face pale in the light.

"Medical status."

"The wrist wounds are nonlethal, due to cauterization, but the hole in his chest is worrying, despite that there is no bleeding," replied the doctor quickly, "We can keep him alive nine more hours until he succumbs to his injuries. If we are incapable of giving him full medical treatment, it is inevitable."

"Understood," said Grievous, and walked across into the cockpit, looking out the viewport. They had nearly reached the _Cordon_ , and safely avoided enemy fire thanks to the new targets offered by escape pods, and the moderate piloting abilities of the droid operators. He could now see vulture droids move to protect the shuttle as it entered within fifty meters of its destination.

"Twenty seconds until we enter the hangar, General," announced the droid to his left, "Do you want damage readings?"

"No," grumbled Grievous, assessing the situation outside. The majority of the Confederate fleet had managed to escape. To his far right, the _Invisible Hand_ was still limbering towards the concentration of Republic ships through sheer momentum, its shields and engines long destroyed. Transparisteel windows and turrets burst open, explosions rippling across hull and plate. He could see it moving closer, ever closer to the enemy reinforcement fleet. Then the ship burst open with a blinding flash that sent shockwaves through the shuttle. The droids chattered worriedly but managed to get them into the Cordon's Hangar Bay as it jumped to lightspeed.

—Author's Note: Thank you for reading! This story is set in an alternate universe that I have been pondering for quite a while now: Dooku survives the battle of Coruscant without the knowledge of Sidious. Due to a combination of schoolwork and writer's block, I do not promise a new chapter within a week of this being published. However, I do appreciate critique, as this is my first story on Fanfiction, and have not ironed out all of the flaws in my writing. Please give honest reviews, I want to know what I did wrong, and what I did right.

Until next chapter!


	2. A Sense of Forboding

"Conflicts are constructed atop two foundations: pride, and resources." —Darth Bane

"Kill him," ordered Palpatine, still bound to his chair. "Kill him now." The Jedi before him hesitated briefly before thrusting the plasma blade through the count's chest. Dooku's body toppled to the ground, smoking slightly. The sound of his panicked breaths ceased. His executioner just looked down at his dying enemy, as if in regret, or perhaps shame. There was a moment of silence as the lightsabers went off.

"He was too dangerous to be kept alive, Anakin," said the Chancellor as his wrist bindings opened. He got up and walked towards Skywalker. "You did well. There is no shame in success if it was for a righteous cause. It was justice. It is not the first time you have rendered it."

"It was still wrong," retorted the Jedi, his tone tinged with guilt.

"We have no time for discussing morals. If we do not leave immediately, we could get captured by General Grievous!" replied Palpatine. The Jedi quickly hung Master Kenobi over his shoulder, ignoring the Chancellor's statements that it would only slow them down. Then the three holograms exited the recording, leaving Dooku's holographic body on the floor.

General Grievous turned off the holorecording on his desk, almost disgusted at the count. How had he ever earned his respect if his skills were this lacking? Dooku had been defeated by a mere two jedi in a battle he should have been easily capable of winning. Even more damning to the skills of his mentor, was that the final blow came after Kenobi was taken out of the fight. Was Dooku, the greatest duelist of the order, so incapable as to be defeated, not by a master, but by a student? Admittedly, Skywalker had a reputation for surpassing the capabilities his rank suggested but when judged against others whom Dooku had defeated, he had shown little distinction…

It was possible Dooku could shed more light on this after the medics got him in a condition stable enough to conduct long conversations. He remembered the doctor telling him it was unlikely they could get him that far, advising him to return to his duties.

He looked out through the transparisteel viewport at the expanse of space interspersed with the white streaks of stars. He could make out one of the three Munificent-class frigates accompanying the Lucrehulk-class battleship that would temporarily be his flagship. It was an acceptable escort considering the resources available to him. He would still have preferred more ships, however likely that they would be sufficient reinforcements for the fleet at Kashyyyk.

A short beep on the holoprojector before him indicated a communications request. He read the ID code. It was Sidious. He typed a short command on the console to open communications. Grievous bowed as high as he dared as the room's lights dimmed to a blood-like red.

"Lord Sidious," greeted General Grievous, straightening up.

"General Grievous," said Sidious, "I have ordered the Separatist Council to the mining facility on Mustafar. They will be secure there for a time. You will not no longer have trouble with their meddling, which should allow you to use available resources as you see fit…" _This is a step in the right direction,_ thought Grievous. Without their constant squabbling and attempts to hold back funding, he would have far more freedom in delegating resources as he saw fit. There was a short pause as the hooded Sith considered his words.

"You need not concern yourself about Dooku's failure to keep the Chancellor in custody. Palpatine's escape, while unfortunate, is unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Capturing him was merely an opportunity to divide the Republic's objectives."

"But what of the defeat of Count Dooku? How was such a defeat possible?" asked the general, wondering why Sidious had not addressed it immediately.

"I understand from the reports submitted by the Jedi that it was by stroke of chance that my apprentice was vanquished. But it matters little," said Sidious, his half-concealed face betraying no hint of an expression. "Soon I will have a new apprentice. One far younger, and more powerful."

"But who will rise to Dooku's position in his stead?" said Grievous, holding back questions that flooded his mind.

"You will be informed after your mission is completed. For the moment, you may resume command of your forces at Kashyyyk as planned. Consult me about your next move when the conflict there has ended," said Sidious, and ended the transmission.

Grievous stood at the holotable, puzzling over what his Master had told him, as the lights returned to their normal bright blue. Who was this more powerful disciple Sidious was going to take? Did he think Dooku was no longer worthy of being his apprentice? The general wondered why the Sith had not simply ordered the execution of Dooku before he was healed. Considering his Master's general policy when it came to the unworthy acolytes and apprentices of Dooku, that was what he should have done.

 _Unless Sidious is unaware that Dooku is still alive…_ thought Grievous. And why did he want to replace him? Did he perceive the count as an unworthy disciple?

—

"Contingents five, seven, and two, I want another routine scan of the outer moons. In the case of encountering enemy craft you are ordered to return to the fleet immediately. Is that understood?" said Rear Admiral Tinis Ghar. Where was the inevitable swarm of Republic reinforcements to repel the imminent ground assault on Kachiro?

The only GAR forces on Kashyyyk were reportedly one thousand clone troopers under General Quinlan Vos, who had regrettably managed to slip through the blockade before they had full stranglehold on the system. Despite the clone's superior quality, Tinis knew that his subordinate Belis Tayne would be more than capable of defeating their uneducated general. Anyway, he knew how badly the Wookies were outnumbered.

"Rear Admiral, Colonel Tayne's troops are finished with their deployment. He requests permission to go on the offensive," reported a neimodian officer. _Finally._ The admiral looked at the squadrons patrolling the distant moons. No sign of enemy reinforcements.  
"Permission granted. Does he wish to receive orbital support?" There was a short pause as the officer relayed the message.  
"He is beginning the assault but declines your offer." He already knew his friend would not accept it. Bombarding the forest outside Kachiro would reduce cover for the droids and tanks, even if it made maneuvering an easier task. Tinis walked away from the transparisteel windows back to his uncomfortable command chair.

And now to resume waiting. It was a shame he had nothing to do but stand there, bored. The bridge staff continued to work in a monotonous slur. He could see their reactions becoming progressively slower as the battle continued under them. Only the droids were unaffected. That was perhaps one of the only good things about them, he mused as reports came in from the patrols. Nothing. As usual.

—

Author's Note: After a great deal of writer's block and many stressful hours, I present to you the second chapter of this story. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are deeply appreciated for their motivational value, as well as constructive criticisms. Apologies for the lack of action during this one, as it takes between the two major battles in ROTS. I really look forward to writing about the battle of Kashyyyk in the next chapter. Please leave constructive criticism in the reviews, as I am not very good at finding the flaws in my own writing. Until next chapter!


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